The Medoran Hunger Games
by Medoran Loki
Summary: The characters from the Medoran Chronicles face off in the Arena in the 32nd Annual Hunger Games. DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Medoran Chronicles or the Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello from the dead. I've been writing this fanfic for a while, and I still haven't finished it, but here's chapter one. If you're anything like me you'll hopefully enjoy this, because you get to have your heart broken as you watch all of your favourite characters tragically murder each other :) Just to be clear, this is set _before _the events of the actual Hunger Games and it doesn't have any of the original character's from the original books. It's made up entirely of Medoran Chronicles characters. Also, the PoV changes each chapter. The characters that they change between are: Alexandra Jennings, Kaiden James, Jordan Sparker, Delucia Cavelle, Barnold Ronnigan, Aven Dalmarta and Niyx Raedon.**

**Hope you like it - Skylerscrawl :)**

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Chapter One

**Alexandra Jennings**

Life in Panem was generally terrible. However, July 4th always topped the entire year. Reaping Day. Twelve districts. Two names. One game. _Twenty three murders_. And Reaping Day is where that all begins.

I stare at the gravelly ground underfoot as I drag my feet along the road. Supposedly, District Five isn't as bad as some of the other districts, but it's hard to keep that in mind as the cut in my foot reopens and begins to bleed, because I cannot afford to buy a new pair of shoes to replace my current old and worn through ones.

I hear that District Twelve has one of the biggest populations out of all the districts, yet the least food. I could only imagine how hard life must be for them in the dangerous atmosphere of the coal mines.

Working on power was dangerous too, though. And more often than not, every family has lost at least one member.

Mine did. I used to have an older brother, Josh. Except technically it wasn't a power accident that brought his life to an end. It was President Athora's Games. And I loathe him for them. Six years ago, my brother's name had been called out on Reaping Day. He'd barely lasted 24 hours in the arena, nor did anyone expect him to. He'd always been too kind and too innocent. He wasn't cut out for murder. He was only fifteen, yet his name had gone in the pool twenty times.

Today, my name is going in twenty-four times. It could be worse. For many other people, it _is _worse. However, I still struggle to comfort myself as I trudge over to where all the other 17 year old girls are standing in line. I look up, realising that I'm about to walk straight into the rows of teenagers, all praying that their name is not going to be called out today. I take my place in the line and stare straight ahead.

On the stage, I see Fitzy. Our overzealous, fruitcake of an escort sent from the Capitol to deliver us to our doom. As always, he's wearing bright clothing. Today he seems to be going for the bumblebee look. He dons a bright yellow coat get up complete with fuzzy black and yellow gloves and bright orange hair.

Along with Fitzy on the stage, is Astophe, the most recent victor of District Five. He's really old now. Which says something about our district's performance level in the Games.

Fitzy clears his throat into the microphone loudly, even though the crowd is dead silent.

"Happy Hunger Games—" I resist the urge to bile, "—and may the odds be _ever _in your favour." I audibly snort and receive a few glares in return. Fitzy, however doesn't seem to notice. "Ladies first!"

It's always the same every year. Ladies first. Some poor girl walks to her death. Gents second. Some poor boy walks to his death.

Fitzy struts over to where the large pile of names sits in what looks like an oversized fishbowl. He rubs his hands together dramatically and flicks one hand agonizingly around in the bowl. It seems as though no one dares to even breathe.

Finally he draws out one slip and walks to the microphone again. He blows on the piece of paper for 'good luck' and this time I manage to restrain from snorting. He unfolds the paper. _It'll be me. I just know it. _I think, _my name will be on that paper and it will all be over for me_.

"Maria Kim." Instantly, my shoulders sag and I release my built up and pressured breath that I've been holding for so long. Then I hear a tormented scream.

"_NO! Maria! NO!" _A voice cries. My heart plummets as I watch a girl, that I know must be at least twelve—but looks no older than six—walk out of the crowd. She's crying, trembling and clinging to a well-loved blue teddy bear. It's colour matches her terrified eyes. As she walks I realise that the scream came from her mother who is possibly trembling more than Maria. I turn my attention back to the girl to see a Peacekeeper approach her and snatch the bear away from her.

"_No! _Please! I-I-no!" Maria chokes on her tears as she struggles for her bear. The Peacekeeper says nothing but continues to tear the bear from her grip. Maria struggles but she is no match for the strength of a full grown Peacekeeper. She falls over in her struggle where she remains sprawled in a heap of tears.

And suddenly I'm snapped awake.

"I volunteer!" I yell, and step out of the crowd so that I can be seen clearly. "I volunteer as tribute." Maria and her mother's cries slowly fade.

Fitzy flashes a smile with too many teeth. "Lovely." He says, "Come on up dear." I begin walking up to the stage, but I pause as I reach the stairs.

I turn back around, striding towards the Peacekeeper holding Maria's bear and yank it from his grip. I hand it to Maria, who looks up with scared eyes. She takes it nervously, then wraps her arms around my torso before running back to her shaken parents. I watch, satisfied, before continuing up the stairs and onto the stage.

"And what would your name be miss?" Fitzy asks me.

"Alex." I say firmly, staring into the crowd mournfully, but contently with what I'm hoping is a resilient gaze. Then I realise Fitzy is still waiting for a full answer. "Uh… Alexandra Jennings."

"Well, Alexandra, you're very brave, is Maria your sister?" He says.

I stare at him. He smiles back stupidly. I blink. He doesn't seem to realise his mistake.

"Uh… no. I don't know her…" I say slowly, flicking my eyes to Astophe standing behind him who was covering a slight smile with a handkerchief. Fitzy gestures for me to stand off to the side of the stage, and rubs his hands together. "And now for the gents." He rifles through the papers in the second bowl before dramatically flinging one single sheet out out. Walks to the microphone. Blows on the paper. I roll my eyes before I can stop myself.

"Aven Dalmarta."

I jolt. I know Aven. I can't say I'm his biggest fan. He was horrible to anyone of colour in school and then expected everyone to revere him like he ran some sort of hierarchy there. And he definitely crosses the line when he pursues girls that are clearly _not _interested. He can't and won't take no for an answer and it's going to bite him in the butt one day.

I spot his head of golden hair quite easily in the back row, and it pleases me to see that he's been caught by surprise and has now accidentally poked himself in the eye whilst trying to get some gunk out. I snicker, and then quickly try to cover it up with a cough. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't care if anyone knew I didn't like someone, in fact, I'd hope they did, but I'm on camera for all of Panem to see right now, and I need to make a good impression to gain sponsors.

Aven's stepped up onto the stage now, still rubbing his eye a little, and I hold my chin a little higher. He tries to look unfazed, and actually _almost _looks smug as he struts past me, his eyes glinting. The perfect bone structure of his face is annoying me.

Fitzy orders for Aven to go off to the side as well, going through the procedure and saying all the boring things he says every year. I've never paid attention to this stuff and I won't start now.

After Fitzy finishes speaking, Aven and I are directed into the Justice Building where we go into different rooms and have time for visitors to say farewell.

The room itself is grander than anything I've seen in my life. There is a purple patterned rug on the floor and the couch has six hand embroidered velvet cushions on it.

The doorway opens a crack and my mum steps into the room slowly. She only hesitates a moment before rushing toward me, bursting into tears. She tackles me in a hug and I hug her back, though I refuse to cry as it will only make this harder. For me and for her. My dad comes in at some point and joins the hug, and we sit there together for our full three minutes, hugging. As the Peacekeepers come to take my parents away, my dad presses an object into my hand.

"We love you so, so much." He whispers, "And you will win, I'm sure of it. What you did won't be forgotten, Alex. I love you."

Then they're gone. The door closes and I unfurl my palm and see what dad has given me. A brown leather bracelet with five beautiful small rocks strung on it. A keepsake of my parents, representative of my district and everything I've ever known.

My parents have always loved investigating rocks and earthy things. I can't figure out how my parents had the time to prepare this for me, but I suppose they made this long ago. Just in case.

I string the rock bracelet around my wrist and sink into the couch as I examine it. There are five rocks on the bracelet to represent my district and my home. It hasn't been much, but it's been life. The Arena? That is certain death.

No one else visits me, nor do I expect them to. I've never been much good at making friends.

Soon I'm being marched out of the Justice Building and through a sea of cameras with Aven, to the train station located at the border of Five, where Astophe and Fitzy are already waiting.

We all board and, somehow, the train is even more extravagant than the Justice Building. Vaguely, I notice a large dining area and living room, but I walk straight past both, instead, making a beeline for where I can see hallway to our compartments. I locate mine without much difficulty and sink into the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in.

But in that moment I'm not concentrating on the comfort of my room. Face smothered in pillow, I finally let my tears escape. I cry for almost an hour, until finally I force myself to get up and go wash my face.

Falling back onto my bed, I replay in my mind what had happened today:

My name hadn't been drawn. Relief… A young girls had. She was young and innocent. Undoubtedly wouldn't have survived in the Arena.

Undeserving of such an awful fate, I volunteered for her… My parents had said goodbye, and given me a piece of them to take with me… I'm going to see my parents again… I'm going to go to the Capitol… I'm on the train now… Fitzy is down to hallway, excited to have fresh new tributes.

And I'm going to the Hunger Games.

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**OooOOOOoOohh spicy. Sorry this first chapter isn't amazingly written, but the chapters get better the further into it you get. Stay tuned for the next chapter, which is in Kaiden's PoV **

**\- Skylerscrawl**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! Sorry I didn't end up posting this for ages, but I've only got like five more chapters of the whole thing to write so hopefully uploading regularly shouldn't be a problem. I am warning you these first few chapters are absolute garbage, but I'm also not bothered to rewrite them. I promise the action scenes are good (I hope). You have been warned…**

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Chapter Two 

**Kaiden James**

I press a handful of buttons out of the multitude displayed on the fancy shower wall, hoping for something relaxing.

Either one, or most likely both of us will die in the Arena. An empty feeling of sorrow courses through me and gnaws at my insides.

I can still hear Astrid reading in her high voice "Jeera James". Can still feel the rawness of my throat from yelling in despair. Can still feel the shock stabbing me in the chest like a knife.

And I barely have time to recover.

Ten seconds later I'm hearing my own name being called out. It's too much.

I stand in the herbal mist of the shower, tears mixing with the endless water stream flowing from the shower head.

I finally get out, breathing in the last of the lavender fumes in deep, elongated breaths. I get dressed. Walk into the sitting room where Jeera, Astrid and our mentor and aunt, Nisha are already waiting.

I instantly feel awful for crying, or being upset at all. This must be so hard on Nisha. She is probably going to lose the only two people in her family she has left.

Nine years ago, a terrible plague hit District Twelve. With the population of our district already so malnourished and weak, we were rendered helpless to the will of the disease. We lost almost half of our people, among those being all of our family, but Nisha, Jeera and I.

Thankfully, no one knows about the crying, and hopefully the sorrow too, because I need to be strong, for Jeera and Nisha. So I haven't revealed any of my inner doubts and pain, and now—as I look at my entire family sitting on the couch, and heading into certain death—I am glad I haven't. No matter how hard these two amazing women will try to be strong, I can see how much this is affecting them, and my own tears won't help.

Astrid turns on the TV just in time to see the District Ones tributes get on the train. We watch as each district gives up their two tributes to the Capitol.

I try to assess each tribute, sizing them up, and learning. I need to be as prepared as possible. I know Jeera is doing the same in her own mind.

District Two, Jordan Sparker. He seems very charismatic. He's smiling, waving, blowing kisses—which could be a big selling point for sponsors. District Three, Barnold Ronnigan. He looks intelligent. I can see his eyes flicking and scanning everyone and everything, calculating, yet on every other feature he wears a happy charming attitude that could make any crowd love him. District Four, Zain Erraeya. Well, his size and build alone is enough to destroy every tribute I've seen so far. But Zain also seems to have an intuitive look in his eye, and it worries me. I make a note to keep an eye on Zain.

District Five… Alexandra Jennings. As I watch the Reaping in District Five, something inside me softens. The sight of Alexandra, volunteering in the place of a child, it's heartwarming and inspiring. It's very rare for anyone to volunteer, and even less so in the place of someone they don't even know. I notice the regal way she holds herself as she takes on the crowd and cameras. It makes her seem so impressive, so captivating. And though I only see them briefly, her eyes are so fierce and determined that I instantly become more fascinated with the District Five tribute than any of the others.

"Love at first sight, Kaid?" Jeera snickers. I grin. Despite it being through the means of making fun of me, I'm glad she's trying to hang on to her natural joy and cheek.

"Oh yeah," I say winking, "Aven Dalmarta captured my heart from the moment that he accidentally poked himself in the eye live."

She laughs, shoving a pillow at my face. I notice Astrid observing this interaction closely with what seems like displeasure. I hang onto the pillow and return my eyes to the screen.

District Six… District Seven… District Eight… Fletcher Montgomery… Skyla Fae… Philippia Squeaker… Roka Dalmarta… We watch each Reaping, until finally;

"District Twelve." Says a voiceover on the screen. I can hardly watch Jeera being reaped again and as the camera gets a closeup on her face, I see in her eyes a look that I've seen before when I challenge her to anything. Steely determination. Even as she brushes away the beginnings of tears, I watch my older sister walk onto the stage as if she was born to, and it fills my heart with hope. Maybe she can make it out of this.

What I also hadn't seen in the moment this morning, as I watch the feed, is Nisha-my unbreakable aunt, the aunt that raised two of the most obstinate James children, the only living victor of District Twelve-standing in her spot as mentor on the stage, a silent tear running down her face as her only family is reaped. I glance over at Nisha now, she is not looking at the screen, or either of us, but staring down at her worn brown boots.

The train ride feels long, though it isn't. Along the way, Nisha gives us advice and tips for when we get to the Capitol. Telling us all about gaining sponsors and social image. She teaches us about getting food and locating water. How to survive against fire, flood, wolves and crazed fans. Anything that might attack us when we least expect it.

"—and above all," She says to us, "trust no one but each other. Make friends with no one. You are each others only alliances. Got it?" Jeera and I nod, glancing at each other.

Slowly, I notice our surroundings shift. Trees turn to towers, wild animals turn to wildly coloured Capitol citizens. Through the window, obsessed Hunger Games fans watch on from the streets, waving hysterically at this year's round of tributes. They disgust me. Regardless however, I walk to the window and smile at them, waving back. Just as Nisha had said. Some wave harder, a few clap and whoop, and some swoon.

The train slows to a stop as we pass through a station filled with crowds. I back away from the window and see some of the other trains arriving out of the opposite window.

I look through and see what I think is the District Four train, next to us. That train begins to move again, zooming off and behind it, is the District Five train, and staring back at me through her window curiously, is Alexandra Jennings. Her expression is as fierce as it was in the Reaping footage. I can see years of understanding and independence in her eyes.

Before I realise, I'm waving slightly to her. Her intense gaze falters in surprise, and she waves back hesitantly. I smile and as her train zooms away and she smiles too. I find I'm still smiling to myself, even after her train has left and stop immediately.

Trust no one… Nisha's words drift through my mind as I walk away from the window and slump onto the couch.

What am I doing? I can't go around getting friendly with these people. I have to kill them. For Jeera. Because if anyone is going to win this, it's her, and I'm going to make sure of it. And yet… there is something about Alexandra Jennings that makes me forget that for a moment.

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**There you go! Like I said: garbage, but bear with me, it gets better. Also I do apologise, I'm noticing now that the length of my chapters are kind of inconsistent. I generally aim for 2000 words per chapter, but I apologise if some fall short, while others might go waaayyyyyy too far. Stay tuned for the next chapter, the PoV is a surprise! A reminder that the PoVs are (in no particular order): Alex, Niyx, Kaiden, Aven, Jordan, Bear, D.C.**

**\- Skylerscrawl :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Here's chapter three! You'll be glad to hear that the writing generally improves from here on out... I think. Anyways just a few comments on some of the characters etc.

**BEFORE YOU SCROLL PAST HERE ARE SOME AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**a) I know Alex doesn't actually have a brother, but I thought it might add a little more meaning to her view on the games.**

**b) When I decided Athora was the president, Vardaesia hadn't come out, and it was mainly based on how weird and mysterious he was being in Graevale. Also it was more because he's a very powerful character so I made him the 'power figure' in this fanfic.**

**c) I try to get my character portrayal with Aven right, where he's kind of in between being a good guy but also is a little twisted because Alex is rejecting him: so yes, he does have a crush on Alex. No, she doesn't like him.**

**Anyways, on with the show!**

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Chapter Three

**Aven Dalmarta**

After the train ride, Alexandra and I are taken straight to different prep rooms to be primped up. I watch her go, wondering what magic they will work on her.

I'm laid down on a table, completely bare. Three ridiculous looking Capitol servants come in, chatting amongst themselves in their high accents. I am vaguely reminded of a rafter of turkeys all gathered together and bustling about doltishly.

"Oh, _he'll _do well." Says the first eventually. She's covered entirely in gold from head to toe and I'm unsure if she's wearing any clothing

"Yes, and with _our _help he's going to be a sponsor star." Says another one. He has a purple wig and a tasseled white leotard.

"Not that you need much help, do you gorgeous?" The thirds says winking. I smile and nod my head in thanks but say nothing.

Soon they get to work on me, chatting happily amongst one another, about stupid, petty Capitol issues. They make me want to walk out of the room immidiately, but I don't react, instead, I pretend to listen intently to their blubbering.

The prep team plucks my eyebrows, waxes my armpits, thankfully leaving my legs alone. My hair is trimmed. At some point a tall, slim woman walks in. She has a close cropped haircut—shaved intricately to make shapes and patterns over her scalp—and eyelashes so long I'm afraid my own eye will be taken out.

After a lot of pampering, the tall woman dismisses the three stooges, and we are left alone. She looks me up and down assessing my body. I'm not all that uncomfortable though, she's just here to make me some clothes.

"Aven Dalmarta…" She says slowly, "I'm Aes Daga. I'm your stylist."

"An absolute pleasure to meet you Aes Daga." I say, mimicking her slow speech. "I trust I am in good hands?" She smiles, almost humanly.

"Quite." She walks around and hands me a robe. I sit down as I put it on. "Now… District Five… Power."

I am about to make a comment on how the styles for District Five generally end up horribly skimpy and unattractive, however Aes Daga continues talking.

"I think you will find this year's design… interesting."

Two hours later, I'm looking at myself in the mirror. I look incredible. Aes Daga has certainly worked magic. My skin shimmers gently with a silver tint, complementing the grey-blue suit that I now wear. A pristine white cape flows from my back, as light as a feather. On top of my head rests a silver crown, made from intricately entwined wires that spark bright flashes of white electricity every now and then, shining brighter than jewels ever could.

"_Power._" I breathed. It was glorious. Worthy of a king.

So you like it." It wasn't a question.

"It is perfect, Aes Daga. Many thanks." I say, smiling.

"We'd better get you over to Alex." She leads me to an elevator where Alex and a man I assume is Darrius stand. Alexandra looks incredible. She's wearing a fitted, long sleeved dress the same colour as my suit, and a bright white flowy shawl draped in the crooks of her arms. She wears lacy white gloves and strappy white heels. Her hair is done in a hundred intricate braids that make her hair look like elegant wires, and on her head is a tiara that matches my crown.

"You look lovely Alexandra." I say. Her face seems to twitch a little.

"Mhm. _Thanks._" Was that… sarcasm? Darrius clears his throat, before I can ask.

"Shall we?" And he leads us into the elevator before anyone responds.

Admittedly, it's a rush. It was so thrilling that Alexandra asks if we can go back up and then down again. Darrius laughs. We can't.

We're taken to a prep room that is like one huge stable, filled with twelve chariots and twenty four horses. I can see our chariot. It looks fit for a king. It's gleaming with new polish, completely silver, and intricate designs that resembled lightning strikes are splayed across the sides, encrusted with tiny multi coloured diamonds. Our horses are pure white, their manes gleaming with jewels too.

I smile, this will be unforgettable. But every king needs a queen. I turn smiling to Alexandra. But her attention is not on the chariot or me. I follow her eyes and find her looking directly at the boy from District Twelve—Kaiden was it?—who is smiling and laughing with who I believe is his sister. Something in me twists and I can feel my smile contorting a little.

"Lets go Alexandra. Our chariot is _this _way." I make a point of directing us in the opposite direction to Kaiden. I climb up into our chariot and Alexandra follows. She stands next to me stiffly.

"Don't be nervous Alexandra." I say gently. She snorts. Apparently that wasn't what she'd wanted to hear, and now I am thoroughly confused. Darrius walks over standing by our chariot.

"Now, once you're out there, when you're ready, press the emblem on your cape." He says to me.

"Why?" Alexandra asks.

"Just do it. Trust me."

The anthem begins to play outside and Darrius wishes us good luck before running off into the crowd. The first chariot rolls out. The crowd cheers wildly and I make a face. The 'Careers' always get the most praise. They aren't better than us. Where would the Capitol be if they didn't have the electricity to watch their beloved games on the television?

The second chariot trots away, and again the crowd goes crazy. Third. Fourth. And then us. Both of us adjust our position as the horses begin to walk out of the stable and onto the huge runway. The crowd practically goes silent. Well, as silent as a crowd of tens of thousands can get. The shock of what we're wearing, what we've done, is still sinking in. The realisation that we've dressed ourselves as _authoritative _power hits the crowd like a truck.

And I relish in it. I look at Alexandra. She has a small, yet satisfied, smile on her face and is looking straight ahead, like this whole thing is a joke, and she's just humouring the Capitol. Then the crowd starts cheering and clapping again, apparently in love with the new look.

"I'm going to press the emblem now." I say to her.

She nods. I quickly press the emblem on my cape, eager to see what will happen. It's like a firework. Our crowns send a shockwave of electricity that travels down our costumes and light up our entire bodies so that we are glowing and sparkling like stars. Aes Daga and Darrius really have made us some incredible outfits. The crowd is screaming, obsessed with our currents. Alexandra is really smiling now, and waving to the crowd with her outer hand. I smile too, and wave to the crowd.

After a while, tentatively, I reach for her inner hand with mine, and our fingers brush. She draws her hand away instantly and gives me a look of confusion, and another emotion I can't read. I stare at her bitterly. A few '_oohs_' go through the crowd. I look up at them distastefully. Immidiately, I put on a dazzling smile and spin around, blowing a charming kiss to the girl from District Six behind us, who "catches" it. I can practically feel Alexandra rolling her eyes. Good.

The chariots continue to roll down the road and the people there go psychotic. I look up at on of the screens expecting to see ourselves on it, but instead I see District Twelve. I can't believe it. How could people be more interested in the _coal miners_ than us. We are _literally _human stars. I can't be outraged for long though, and try to smile genuinely again to the crowd.

We finish the runway and do a circle lap at the end before all the chariots are stilled. There is President Athora, standing high and regal, on his podium of sorts. I respect that man. The Hunger Games aren't exactly pleasant, but Athora knows how to control the people. After all, there's been no rebellion in all the years of the Games.

I look around at the other chariots and tributes.

The District One tributes look like they're practically made of jewels. The boy, around my age, is "made" of dark amethyst and other hues of purple gems. The girl next to him is "made" of a mixture of blues and greens and even a flash of gold here and there. They are obviously targeting the Capitols weak spot, riches, in hope of sponsors.

The District Two tributes have what appear to be overlapping tiles fitted to their forms. What's fascinating is the way the tiles flow, almost as if they're moving and shifting constantly. These two are trying to grasp the Capitols wonderment.

District Three have formal suits made of interesting shimmery black material that look smooth and silky, and when the light reflects on their suits, strips and pathways of blue and green flicker remarkably. I'm vaguely reminded of a motherboard or something of the sorts. I suppose they want to seem cunning and intelligent to their crowd.

District Four don a rainbow of greens and blues draped across their bodies elegantly as if a wave is washing over them. It represents dignity, grace and beauty.

District Six wear loose clothing, the colour of old paper. Scrawled across them is writing and directions. They are _literal _maps. I'm not quite sure what they're going for, but it's not really working.

District Seven have some pretty awful looking bark costumes that are _very _strategically placed across their bodies, their hair belain with rings of leaves. It appears as though _they _are the skimpy ones this time.

The tributes from Eight are wearing togas of patchwork materials. Unique, to put it best.

Nine have clothes that look like they were made out of rice, which is interesting, but not a great look. Intricate, detailed and precise, however.

Ten wear cowboy hats, suspenders, vests and the whole getup. I suppose they were trying to look authentic but it's really just so cliche.

Eleven are dressed to look like blooming flowers in the best way possible. They are definitely homing in on cute and innocent. They'll be very lovable in the eyes of sponsors, which is worrying.

And Twelve. Twelve are dressed in clingy black leather and the intention is clear. Their stylists have decided to make the tributes of District Twelve look _enticing_. Hot. Seductive, even. And it annoys me. Because they're doing a good job. Who wouldn't find their dark hair and bright eyes, radiant skin and defined features attractive? Half the nation is probably already in love with the pair. I look over at Alexandra, and she too apparently seems to be examining District Twelve's costumes. I huff and turn my attention back to President Athora, who has apparently just finished his speech.

"... and this year's Games promise to be interesting. Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour." He walks off his stage and the tributes do another lap before riding down the runway to the cheers of the Capitol.

When we finally make it back to our quarters, we have dinner and are advised to wash and go straight to bed. Tomorrow we start at the Training Center and we'll need our energy and a good night's sleep. So Alexandra and I eat in silence and head off to our rooms.

I have a shower, making sure to take advantage of all the luxuries I've never had the chance to experience until now. Then I put on some provided pajamas and slip into bed.

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**Ok I don't really know what is happening with the formatting, but it doesn't matter. Encase you were wondering I'm currently halfway through chapter eleven, which means the entire fanfic is nearly complete. Which meannnsss... that I'll be able to post a lot more chapters soon. :) **

**Next PoV is Alex again.**

**\- Skylerscrawl**


	4. Chapter 4

**I HAVE RETURNED WITH AN UPDATE. Ok I don't really like this chapter but I'm not bothered to make it better and I gotta post it. Look, suffice to say I'm not great at writing mushy, fluffy scenes. Just make it to the action scenes and it gets better I promise. Also, you'll have to excuse my inconsistent paragraph breaks, I keep changing them and now I've lost track.**

**Regardless, enjoy...**

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Chapter Four 

**Alexandra Jennings**

I have to wake up stupidly early this morning to get ready for the Training Center. I wake up groggily and take a cold shower to fully wake myself up. It's a _terrible _idea.

I get dressed in a simple khaki tee and blue jeans and go to breakfast where Aven, Astophe and Fitzy are all already waiting.

I can tell that Fitzy has made them wait for me, because the moment I sit down, Astophe dives into his food hungrily. Aven, however greets me politely.

"Good morning Alexandra," _Man_, I hate it when he calls me by my full name, "how did you sleep?"

"Fine." I mumble. Maybe I was being rude, but I cannot understand why he is so polite to me all the time. For some reason it makes me feel really agitated and a little edgy. I can't work him out and I'm not sure I want to.

"So," Says Astophe, after he's wolfed down his meal and taken a large gulp of orange juice, "do you two want to train together or separately?" I don't even look at Aven.

"Separately." I say instantly. I suppose I should feel a little guilty, but I don't. Aven creeps me out and if he isn't still—of which I'm not entirely certain yet—he used to be just about the worst person _ever_.

"OK, well…" Astophe says awkwardly.

"What time does training start?"

"9:00" I check the clock. _8:30_.

"I'll go down early." I say getting up and leaving before anyone can oppose, and get into the elevator . Which raises my spirits. I love that elevator.

When I get to the Training Center I head straight for the swords.

I'm alright with a weapon. My brother taught me a bit when I was younger, but it was more just as a joke. Now, I wish he had shown me more.

I swing each sword feeling the weight of it, trying to find the right one. All of them feel wrong. Too heavy. Too light. Too long. Too short. I suppose it doesn't really matter. I doubt the other tributes will stop for a couple of minutes to let me find a sword that has the right 'feel'_, _in the Arena.

Still, I continue swinging and testing. It's almost therapeutic, swinging away in the peace and quiet. It's a nice break from always having to be camera ready. A break from worrying about my family. About my life. About the Games. About _Aven_.

I pick up another sword.

"Try this one."

"Gah! Son of a gun!" I spin around, sword still in hand and pointing directly at the boy from District Twelve's chest. He sticks his hands up and grins, his eyes gleaming.

"_Woah_. Relax." He says still smiling, and he pushes my sword aside with the one he's holding. "Here, try this one." He repeats, handing me the sword.

It's smooth, just the right length and a light silvery-blue colour. I swing it around. It's perfect.

"Thanks…" I say, hesitantly, massaging my temples, "I'm uh—"

"Alexandra." He finishes.

"Alex…" I mumble, confused and surprised that he knows my name. But, then again—

"And I'm—"

"Kaiden." I finish—I know his. It's kind of hard not to notice him. His sorrow for his sister, and then the injustice of him being drawn too. And somehow he's kept so calm and happy throughout it all. His friendliness. It's pretty impressive. And… it's not like he isn't good looking either. Those eyes can probably bring someone out of a coma.

He picks up a sword and swings it around a bit, before putting it back and picking up another.

"You're pretty handy with that thing. Are you a secret ninja sent by the Capitol or something?" His face looks so serious, that I can't tell whether he's kidding or not.

"Uh… no, I–" I stammer awkwardly, but at that moment his face breaks into an amused smirk and I realise he's messing with me.

"You're _hilarious._" I say, rolling my eyes. I start stabbing my sword around irritably.

"No I'm completely serious. I need to know if I even stand a chance of surviving." He says mockingly. I humour him.

"Well if I told you that, I'd have to kill you."

"So you _are _a ninja." He says smugly. I pause, trying to process.

"Whatever, it's too early in the morning." I mumble. He chuckles and changes his sword.

"So why _are _you down here so early?"

"You ask a lot of questions." I say, focusing again on my swordsmanship, weirdly self-conscious of my techniques.

"So you're just not going to answer them?" He says.

"I never said that." I say, glancing briefly at him. He seems to be entirely amused by this whole conversation.

"Well _I'm _here because I wanted to come and get used to the weapons. It's pretty therapeutic actually." He says, picking up another sword from the rack.

"Yeah." I agree, taking another swing.

"Okay. I gave my answer, now you give yours. Out with it. Answer for an answer." I sigh,

"Honestly? I'm a little sick of my partner. He creeps me out."

"He's got his eye on you." Kaiden says nonchalantly. I laugh.

"Yeah, sure." Kaiden chuckles. He has a nice laugh. It's warm and gentle. He returns his sword to the rack and reaches right over my shoulder for a sword behind me, leaving little space between us.

"You're a little oblivious aren't you?" He says. His breath is minty and cool, and I want to pinch myself for even thinking it. I slip out from between Kaiden and the sword rack.

"_No_," I say indignantly, "I just know when someone keen on me and when someone's a creep." Something about this is apparently funny because Kaiden laughs, shaking his head.

"Whatever you say." He says, his eyes twinkling. I glare at him.

"Yes. Whatever _I _say." I repeat firmly. He just laughs quietly again.

We continue to train in companionable silence and soon the the station tutors and other tributes begin to come in slowly and I decide I should probably do something other than swing swords. I turn to Kaiden who's mid lunge.

"Well, I'm going to go see some other stations…" I say awkwardly. He runs a hand through his hair, puffing a little and breaking into a sweat.

"Okay sure. I would recommend edible plants. It's more useful than it sounds."

"OK. Thanks. It was… uh… nice meeting you." Kaiden nods and smiles as I leave and then continues testing swords. I begin walking around, making my list in my head of the stations I want to visit. _Edible plants. Hammock making. Fire starting. Fish hooks. Knives._

I start at edible plants.

Coming from any other tributes lips, the advice Kaiden had given me would have made me go anywhere _but _edible plants. But for some reason, I just trust Kaiden–which worries me–and so I spend almost the entire session just studying the leaves and plants, trying to remember them by heart. In the last ten minutes, I go to knives and throw a few, hitting most of the targets more or less in the chest.

* * *

Tonight, at dinner, Astophe tells us to not reveal our particularly good skills to the other tributes.

"If the tributes know your true talents, they will be expecting your true talents. It's incredible what the element of surprise can do." Oddly enough, I find myself thinking _good thing I only showed Kaiden_… because I simply… trust him, although I've only really talked to him once. I want to pinch myself again.

I finish dinner quickly—still pondering over what Astophe has said—walk into my room, shower and flop into bed, exhausted. Yet, three hours later, it becomes evident to me that I'm not going to sleep any time soon. I get up and walk to the window. Staring out of it all I can see is Capitol people walking along the streets as though it's the middle of the day.

I pull the blinds down and walk into the hallway. At the very end and to the right is a set of stairs. I walk over to them and climb up. They lead to an open rooftop. I go and sit by the ledge where I can see the real view. Dimming city lights and stars wink back at me, and just faintly in the distance, I can see the dark green masses of hilltops. Open fields roaming beyond the decay of the districts. I sit there for a long time, just appreciating as much as I can.

"Wouldn't have—" I must jump about a meter in the air.

"What the _actual_ heck!" I whip around and see him standing there smiling.

"—expected to see you here." Kaiden finishes.

"H-wha-how did you get up here?!"

"Same way you did I would expect." He says, smiling as he sits down on the ledge. I huff,

"Whatever. Stop sneaking up on me. You don't want to be punished by the Capitol for scaring me to death before the Games have even started." He makes an amused noise in the back of his throat but continues to stare out at the twinkling view. "Besides, you're making me feel bad. I'm meant to be the secret ninja remember?" He laughs,

"Sorry, I shouldn't have been so inconsiderate." I shrug.

"Yeah, well… no one's perfect. You're forgiven." He sighs in relief sarcastically.

"So, what brings you to the roof tonight? Answer for an answer." He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Couldn't sleep." I say simply, sitting back down on the ledge. "And you?"

"Ditto." We sit there in companionable silence as the moon very slowly sinks lower.

"What's stopping us from jumping off right now?" I ask after a while. In response, Kaiden reaches out his finger just for a second and a small zap leaps out.

"Oh… well, that's a shame." I sigh.

"No, it's not." He says quickly.

"And why's that?" He doesn't respond, "Kaiden?" He sighs,

"You have a family, Alex. You have people to go back to, to care for. People that love you. Imagine if you jumped off right now, never to be heard of again? You can at least try to come back." I guess I see his reasoning and it makes me want to try harder, but I still know I'm not going to win these games. A thought occurs to me.

"You keep saying 'you'. What's stopping _you _from trying to come back too?" I ask tentatively

"No it's my question now." He says evasively, "Are you allying with anyone?" There's a simple answer.

"No. There's no point." He raises an eyebrow, "Well I'm going to die anyway. If I ally it means I'm just going to have to kill a friend before I meet my inevitable death. It's just going to make everything harder."

"I suppose…" He trails off. "But what if you don't die?" I snort.

"Have you _seen _the competition? I promise you this, Kaiden, so long as I'm going into the Arena with people like the guys from District One and Four, I'm going to die." Kaiden seems to deflate a little.

"Well I promise you this, _Alex_, so long as _we're _in the Arena _together_, I will bring you no harm. I don't want to have to kill you—"

"_Why_?" I interrupt. He continues as if I haven't said anything.

"—consider me your _ally_… of sorts." I don't quite know what to say. I'd made it pretty clear that I wasn't going to ally, and yet here Kaiden is, allying with me. I'm unsure of whether I mind.

"Uh… well, same here, I guess. I promise not to kill you." I say slowly. He nods and we sit there a little longer until I see the sun beginning to rise.

"We'd better go." I say. But I can't make myself move. It's only when he forces himself up and offers a hand to pull me up too, that I actually start moving.

"I'll see you around, Alex." He says smiling and then he disappears down his set of stairs.

* * *

The next morning is similar to the previous. We have to get up early, I go to the Training Center early.

Kaiden is already there. He's back at the sword station, swinging away and breaking a sweat.

"You should be careful." I say. He starts and loses his balance, causing him to stumble. I laugh, pleased to have got the jump on him this time. He chuckles quietly and runs a hand through his hair before returning to position. By now I've made it to the sword station as well.

"You should be careful about what talents of yours you show to the other tributes."

"Tributes like you?" He asks, changing swords.

"Tributes _exactly _like me." I say, picking up my own sword and smiling a little. He laughs,

"I'll take my chances." He says smiling in return.

We practice our swordplay again, chatting a little as we go, but mainly just enjoying the company.

Again the station tutors and other tributes begin to come in and again I leave Kaiden and go to edible plants to revise what I'd learnt yesterday. I've done well and only need to spend about half an hour or so at that station. I move on to fire starting and watch the tutor's technique as she rubs a stick back and forth on a larger log, until it begins to smoke. I observe as she quickly transfers a handful of dried grass to the smoking log. She begins to blow on the clump of smoking grass until it lights. She quickly drops it onto more kindling she's prepared and starts a small fire with her log. I make my own attempt, which is a little pathetic as I feel the pressure of her intense gaze watching from her glowing fire.

"You've got to hold your hands higher up." I look up and find the boy from District Two grinning down at me. I glance at the fire behind him that burns steadily. I focus back on my log, embarrassed by my feeble attempts, reluctantly shifting my hands higher up. To my displeasure, the log begins to smoke.

"_Thanks…" _I say uneasily, as I transfer the kindling. The boy laughs,

"Don't sound so skeptical." He holds out a hand smiling, "I'm Jordan Sparker, District 2." He grins as I shake his hand,

"Alex, District 5."

Jordan chats to me for a bit in the fire starting section while I manage to get a small fire going, until it's time for lunch. He invites me to sit with him and the boy from District Three, with whom he's apparently very good friends with. Some sort of rebellious thing they'd both done before they'd even been Reaped. Whatever _that _meant. I accept his offer, against my better judgement, and he leads the way to the very center table that he evidently has claimed as _his _spot. Already sitting down, is the dark haired boy from District Three and a red-headed girl—whom I recall is from District One—who looks thoroughly displeased about anything and everything. Jordan gestures to the boy from Three.

"This is my man Bear, and this," He points to the redhead almost laughingly, "is D.C. She's allied with us but don't expect much conversation." He covers the side of his face facing her and whispers, "I'm pretty sure she's only allied with us because of my godly looks." He winks again and D.C. rolls her eyes but remains silent. Despite Jordan's claims, I can see what D.C. is really doing. Jordan and D.C. and I guess Bear, are all Careers. They had more preparation for these games, especially Jordan. Being from District Two, he probably has literally trained for this and it isn't like he's not burly. Bear's from District Three. He is probably a minor _genius_ and can understand complex situations and complications, his mind having only ever been trained to work out mathematical equations and develop technology. I can certainly see the benefits of teaming up with a scientist and a bodyguard. Except sooner or later, someone will have to kill the others. Allying could leave D.C. very vulnerable in all sorts of ways, which I suppose is why she's keeping to herself. D.C. is actually being quite smart.

We grab our lunch and begin eating. All of us are pigging out. These are the Hunger Games after all. I imagine we'll be doing the name more than justice in the Arena, so I want to beef up as much as possible.

"So," I say, as I finish my last mouthful, "Jordan tells me you two knew each other or whatever before now?" Bear nods.

"Yeah, we were both at the fence border a couple of years ago. They were getting me to inspect the broken power box—"

"—He's a genius." Jordan fills in. So my suspicions were correct.

"And I don't even know what Sparkie was doing—"

"—I was hunting illegally and I had to take a leak." Jordan provides helpfully. I nod solemnly. Taking leaks were important.

"_Right_… well anyway, you probably get the picture. We met at the fence—_no_, I did not see him taking said leak, before you ask." That _had_ been my next question. "We met. And he was _conveniently _hunting after that day, in the same spot as the box I had to fix was, and after I'd finished on the box, we just met up anyway. We've been friends for…"

"Three years." Jordan finishes proudly, and he claps an arm around Bear, "You're my bro, bro."

"Thanks bro." Bear says and D.C. scoffs. The story is nice, and their interaction is heart-warming, but I can only feel sympathy. No one says it, but—

"If someone else doesn't," D.C. begins, "which I doubt, you do realise that one of you will probably have to kill the other right?" I stand corrected. Someone _will _say it. Jordan's smile drops and Bear looks down at his food unhappily.

We eat in silence after that. I decide to spend the rest of the day with Jordan and Bear-and I guess D.C. but she doesn't speak more than a few sentences-who actually have really great advice in areas that I'm terrible at, that they happily just give to me. But I'm not complaining.

By the end of the day, I'm once again exhausted. We spend dinner in a similar manner to last night, although Astophe actually provides a little useful advice here and there like,

"Tomorrow's your last day, so avoid letting anyone see your talents, but make sure you get at least some practise in before the Skills Review." Or, "Make sure you pay close attention to the other tributes because tomorrow's your last good chance of seeing their strengths and weaknesses." I keep a mental record of every little piece of advice that can help me.

I go to bed early, but find myself wandering up to the roof again two hours later. Kaiden isn't there, and wonder why I expected him to. Or wanted him to. I sit on the ledge and curl into a ball. All Astophe's talk about the Skills Review and 'our last opportunities' is slowly bringing me into reality. Of course I knew the games would come eventually, but the realization that in four days, my life could end just like that-or I could have murdered someone-breaks something in me that hasn't yet. I'm not just here for the fun of it. I'm going into the Arena in _four days_. I will have to die or kill. Like Josh had been. The image of him being ripped apart by the other tributes suddenly flashes in my mind. All desperate for revenge. For blood. _Why hadn't I looked away? _I was _eleven_ and my parents had tried to cover my eyes. But I had to look.

Before I know it, hot tears are flowing rapidly down my face and I'm breaking into a feverish sweat. Eventually, I realise that I'm shaking violently and I try to still myself, wrapping my arms tightly around each other, but it's not working. I give up and shake and cry, going from sweats to chills freely. The city lights become a blur and merge into one giant blazing ball, and the howls of the wind transform into the screams of dying tributes.

I'm only brought back to reality when something warm and soft is draped gently across my trembling shoulders.

"You shouldn't be out here with a fever." A voice says softly and I feel a warm hand press against my forehead. I wrench my eyes open a fraction. Clear, blue ones stare back.

"Alex," Kaiden says, tentatively, "I think you should go inside…"

"No…" I murmur, "no, no. I can't… I can't!" My voice is rising.

"Hey, hey. _Shh_… it's ok. I'm not going to make you. You're ok." He brushes a strand of hair off my sweaty forehead so I can clearly see the comforting smile he's giving me, "You're ok…" He rubs the sides of my arms, warming them up. The tears are still flowing.

"They… they took him too." I whisper.

"Took who?" Kaiden sits beside me, still rubbing my arms.

"My brother… in the Games. THEY KILLED HIM!" I burst out. "IN _BITS _AND _PIECES! _THESE GAMES THEY-they… they d-destroy-" I take a deep stuttering breath and try to calm myself, "-they destroy more than just the lives of the tributes. Kaiden, I'm going to murder. Just like my brother was. Just like him… And my parents… they-they…" I trail off, too distraught to finish my sentence. He stares at me compassionately.

"Alex… I-I'm so sorry." Kaiden says gently, and he unexpectedly pulls me into a hug. I don't draw away. His embrace is warm and secure and he rubs his hand in an up and down my back in a comforting way. I feel safe. I relax a little and my body becomes less tense. Sensing this, he begins to move away.

"No. Please. This… it helps. I-I need this." Kaiden smiles softly and pulls me close to him again.

"I understand. Try and rest." He says. And I do. Kaiden wakes me up about six hours later. He's managed to bring pillows and blankets at some point in the night and has made me a makeshift bed. He now sits close beside me where I'm lying.

"I'm sorry Alex, but we'd better go before we're found out of bed." I look at him sleepily, but feeling much better.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"It doesn't matter." He says as evasively as always. I squint at him disapprovingly but push the matter no further. I stretch and get up, scrunching the pillows and blankets into a big floppy ball.

"Uh… well, thanks. Er… here you go." I say awkwardly, handing him the tangled mess. He chuckles as he takes it, somehow making it seem neat and organised. "Ok, um… goodnight–er… good morning?" I stumble over my words. I hold out my hand for what is initially a handshake, but then I decide to change to a high five, before contemplating on whether I should hug him or not. In the end, Kaiden, rather than receiving a goodbye, witnesses my impression of a snake. He laughs again more audibly as my face burns. Then, faster than I can process, he plants a kiss on my cheek and walks off, looking back once to say,

"I'll see you later, Alex."

* * *

I go through breakfast and my trip to the Training Center in a confused mess. I question what Kaiden's kiss had meant. Had it been a joke? Why would it be though? I suppose anyone who got as flustered as I did would be funny, I imagine that kiss was hugely hilarious for him. Or was it more than that? And if it was, why? One, or both of us was going to die, so what's the point? My stomach still feels warm from that kiss and I hate it. I hate that I actually like this guy and care about him. It's going to make him dying that much more painful. I just hope it at least isn't me who has to do it. I've made my promise to him though. Hopefully we won't even cross paths in the arena. That will be easiest.

I arrive at the Training Center at 9:00 for the first time. Most people are already there. I make a point of going to the station that is far away from Kaiden. I haven't a clue what to do about him, nor do I want to figure out a clue at the moment. I have my literal life at stake.

I realise that I haven't been to the fishhooks station yet, which was one of the stations on my list on the first day. I head over to the station and watch the instructor weave grass expertly around two twigs. I attempt a hook myself. I'm just tying the ends of my woven grass together when someone approaches me from behind. I assume it's Kaiden and am about to point out that I know he's there and that he can't scare me, when the voice stops me. It's not Kaiden.

"You want to tie it tighter than _that_, _Kitten._"

* * *

**OoOOOoOOOh i wONdER wHO iT cOULd bE? Stay tuned for the next chapter iiinnnn... Niyx's PoV :DD**

**\- Skylerscrawl**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hellloooo here is chapter five :) Sorry it's a little short :/**

* * *

Chapter Five 

**Niyx Raedon**

She spins around quickly, glaring at me.

"Sorry, who are you and why do I care?" She asks dryly.

"Now, that's no way to talk to someone who's trying to help you, is it?" I tut.

"Who. Are. You?" She repeats stiffly.

"Relax Alex," I say, and she narrows her eyes further. I lean against the wall and grin, "well, Niyx Radeon, District One." I proudly hold my hand out. She ignores it and grimaces a little as she says sarcastically,

"_Pleasure_."

"Ah but the pleasure is all mine, kitten."

"_Don't _call me that." She says turning around and returning to her fishhook.

"What?" I ask grinning, "Kitten?" I can see her jaw tensing but she chooses not to respond. "_Oh _I see. You don't want your boyfriend over there," I nod my head to Kaiden James on the other side of the room, "to hear and get the wrong idea about _us_. Look I know I'm _all that _but-" I've apparently gone a step too far because Alex spins around hot on her heels, her eyes icy.

"Look _buddy_, if there's something you want to say to me, spit it out. Otherwise get the hell away from me and find a better use of your time because _I for one _am trying to _stay alive_, and mate, _you _clearly need all the help you can get." I put my hands up in surrender.

"Woah. Okay feisty. As a matter of fact, yes, there was something I wanted to say to you. I would like to offer you an alliance with me." She looks oddly unimpressed, "Of course we'll be with the other Careers for some of the time, I know you're all _buddies_. But friendships are flimsy. Alliances are business deals. Unbroken until we're the last two. You have my word." Alex snorts.

"Well here's _my_ word for you. I don't ally. With anyone. And if I did, it would be with anyone but you. You are exactly the kind of person that makes me loathe these Games with such a passion. Because they're just games to you. These _human beings _are just pawns to you. If one dies, oh well, one less player to defeat. _Newsflash. _These aren't games. This is _life _and _death_. And I want no association with your careless, _Capitol_ attitude." She spits each word at me before putting her fishhook down roughly and storming past. I watch her go as I consider her words. _Capitol attitude. _Surely that's not how people see me. I hate these Games as much as anyone here does, but I have my priorities straight. I'm not letting anyone prevent me from surviving. I have my sister back home to care for, she needs me. And no one is going blind me from my goal. That means I need trustworthy alliances, a good image for the cameras and a good gage of the tributes going into the Arena with me in four days. I've been watching. I've noticed whatever has been happening between Alex and Kaiden. I've also seen the skill of both tributes from Twelve. I've seen the tight bond between Sparker and Ronnigan. I've picked up on Cavelle's calculating eyes, and her loose connection to the pair. I've seen that Alex has the right skill, and the right attitude I need to help me. It's clear she doesn't expect to win, which will make watching her die, or in the worst case, killing her easier. But I suppose she does not have the same morals, as myself, and _clearly _doesn't want anything to do with me, which makes allying with her difficult.

I sigh and look around the Training Center, my eyes landing on Alex's partner, Aven. He might not be a bad ally himself. He seems to be on the same page as me: he has his eye on the prize. I know that he won't be as easy to get rid of as Alex and I can see he is somewhat lacking in self-control, but he does have an immense skill set and intense focus. I walk over to where he is practicing his sword skills.

"Aven, I believe?" I ask. He pauses, looking at me with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Who's asking?" He asks sharply.

"Someone who needs an alliance with a person smart enough to ask." I shoot back. His steely resolve melts into a smile and he holds out his hand.

"Aven Dalmarta, District Five." I shake it, smiling.

"Niyx Radeon, District One." Aven raises an eyebrow and nods.

"Ah, a Career." He returns to his sword swinging, "Well Niyx, I'm going to have to deny your offer if you're as sentimental as those buffoons." He says, glancing at Sparker and Ronnigan, who are laughing together like hyenas about something or other in the shooting station.

"Where would I get if I was?" I ask. Aven smiles knowingly.

"Dead."

* * *

It's after dinner and everyone has gone to bed to get a good night's rest. Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow we will be having our private sessions and Skills Review. This is what really separates the winners from the losers. No matter how crafty a facade the tributes can put up in front of the cameras, the scores we get on the skills test is what really gains the sponsors. And a sponsor can be the difference between life and death in the Arena.

I stare at my window in a lost daze, flicking uncaringly through the generated views that are available. I stop as I come across a dark open sky, full of glittering stars. My namesake is the goddess of the night, Nyx, from an old children's tale. Supposedly, even Zeus, the All Father, was afraid of her. I want to pray to Nyx right now, though I know she isn't real. Instead I wish upon the stars. I wish to come back from this nightmare. Wish for Mayra's safety. She's only six years old and my dad left us long ago for some sleaze in the Capitol. She only has me to look after her without mum. I wish for mum. I wish she were still here, telling Mayra those old tales, when really, she was just telling them because _I _liked to hear them. I miss her dearly, and realise that I've subconsciously walked to the window and pressed my palm against a star far in the distance. Far from this hell I'm living. Mum constantly told us, as she lay on her deathbed, with her last rasping breaths,

"_I'll always be with you, as long as there are stars in the sky." _

I sigh and look away from the window, but don't change the screen.

"I'll make it out of this mum, for Mayra. I swear on the stars."

* * *

I wake up early the next morning and eat a beefy breakfast. I'll be second to have my Skills Review so I want to be high energy and fully prepared.

As we travel down the elevator, which is a riot, I notice D.C. nervously fiddling with a leather bracelet around her wrist. It's really the first sign of emotion I've ever seen from her.

"Good luck number one." I say, winking at her. Her nostrils flare at little as she lets out a very reluctant,

"_Thanks_." Well, it's something.

The elevator stops and we arrive at the Training Center, however instead of going inside, we are taken to a waiting room just left of the entrance.

"Now you two just wait here, and we'll fetch you once they're ready for you." Our escort Niida says.

We don't have to wait long. The other tributes have barely arrived when Niida renters the waiting room and says formally,

"Delucia Cavelle, District One." D.C. tenses. I grin at her as she gets up.

"Don't stuff it up too much." She ignores me and walks into the Training Center with Niida.

I look around, waiting for D.C. to be finished. I glance at Zain from District Four. I've been wondering whether he would join the Careers alliance. He would certainly be an asset, but I suspect that he's more of a lone wolf. I decide now's a better chance than ever to find out. I meander over to where he sits, eyes closed, as though in meditation. His brow furrows before I've even opened my mouth.

"What do you want One?" He mutters, not opening his eyes.

"Heyo buddy." I say, lounging into an empty chair beside him. He takes a deep breath through his nose, "You seem like a smart guy. I _am _a smart guy. Put it together and-"

"-No." He says and exhales loudly.

"Yeah I agree… too much power, am I right?" I chuckle awkwardly and decide to go sit down again before he opens his eyes.

I sit restlessly for about ten minutes before D.C. reenters with Niida who says,

"Niyx Raedon, District One." A movement to my left as I'm called leads me to catch Alex watching me as I walk into the Training Center. I notice smugly that she's sitting with Kaiden and send her wink before raising my eyebrow suggestively. She only glares at me.

The Training Center is completely reorganised in order to give the tributes space to strut their stuff. They have also brought in a simulation set up, for those who really want to show off. I make a beeline for the simulation.

I clear my throat,

"Niyx Raedon, District One." I say loudly to the gamemakers gathered in a room some distance away. Luckily, I'm the second tribute they're seeing, so I still have their full attention. I bow and then whack the button that turns the simulation on.

As the program starts up and orange holographic figures begin to appear, I waltz over to the sword rack and pick up two nice weighty swords. I pause for a second-for the tension, of course, and then in an instant, I spin around and behead two holograms that are right behind me. Then I really get started. Figures continue to appear, and it seems as though when I kill one, two more form. I leap up and kick an incoming target in the chest, embellishing the extravagance of the jump a little just for kicks. I land standing on the hologram's chest and stab it in the chest. I pause to yawn, and then throw a sword at another target, not checking if it hits him-knowing that it has-and turn around to skewer two holos in a row with my other sword. I wink at the gamemakers before throwing my other sword at a holo, and engaging in some hand to hand combat with three other figures on my left. I take them all out with ease and show off a few more fancy moves as I demolish the growing crowd of orange figures. I continue like this, for about half and hour and am just starting to get tired when someone calls,

"That will be all." I hit the button again and bow, blowing a kiss to one of the gamemakers on the way out.

When I get back to the waiting room I sit next to Aven, whose darting eyes are the only indicator of his nervousness.

"You were in there a while." He says, glancing at me.

"What can I say? The ladies loved me."

* * *

**Look- don't question the physics of holograms. **

**Next chapter is a surprise PoV :D**

**\- Skylerscrawl**


End file.
